The Delivery of Sarah Phyllis

Ahhh my beautiful baby! I promised a birth story and since I'm not supposed to be doing all of my regular activities and the baby is asleep, now is a good time to write it. Short version: My water broke Friday night. My sister Irene happened to be staying the night anyways so I tucked the kids in, packed a bag and went to the hospital. Labor kicked in around 2:30 in the morning and at 7:10 Sarah came flying out, much to the amusement of the nurses. (If you want to know why read the long one, lol) Jeff called home just as the kids were waking up. She weighed in at 6 lbs, 10.5 oz and was 19 inches long. She's healthy and we are doing pretty well.

Now if you want the long(very long?) version... We'll start on Thursday. I had a pre-natal check on Thursday where the doctor noticed that Sarah was experiencing some PVCs. It sounds like a skipped heart beat ever 4 beats or so. Since I was 39 weeks the next day, this was a reason to just go ahead and induce. Except- I wasn't presenting ready at all. Only a fingertip dilated, and super high- he couldn't strip my membranes. And since Abby was born via C-section, that left using a balloon to dilate my cervix, then pitocin. I did that with Harvey, and it was awful. So we went with option number 2- Nonstress test, then decide. Her NST was marvelous and showed she was healthy! (PVCs not withstanding, she was great) What a relief for me. Now I could plan on another NST on Monday, and look forward to a baby shower on Saturday and the kids Primary Program on Sunday. Plus, Irene was coming and we were going to finish getting the things that needed doing, done.

So Friday I was just having a great day- lots of energy, no stress. Just felt great, better than I had in ages. (You experienced moms are laughing, because you know where this leads, don't you???) Yes, yes I've discounted it before but now I know what they meant- that burst of energy that gets you ready for labor, means labor is coming. We turned on our brand new copy of 'Beauty and The Beast' Friday night for family movie night. Towards the end I got up to get out some Creamies for a treat, and felt a funny little leaking. But I hadn't coughed or sneezed or anything. Uh-oh. I'll ignore it for now- certainly nothing to worry about. Irene arrived, we tucked kids in. I finally conceded. (I had tried to convince myself I was imagining it, because I had plans for the day, didn't I??) I felt like I was in my period with cramps and occasional little gushes of fluid. Time to pack my bag. Part of me just wanted to stay home in bed and rest until I couldn't take it- but I didn't want to disturb people in the middle of the night if I didn't need to. So off we went. When we got to the hospital they prepared me for the possibility of it not being broken water, but it was and I was up to a 2 1/2. They called the doctor and he gave the go-ahead to leave me alone until 7 in the morning, then they would consider pitocin if necessary. So we tried to sleep in the hospital.

Yeah, right. Part of me wanted to get the rest I knew I would need for later and the other part wanted to get up and get things moving as much I could. I'd hear a baby cry and just desperately wanted to meet my Sarah. Finally I started paying attention to my contractions at 2 o'clock. At 3 Jeff noticed I was dealing with something, at 4 we called the nurse to report active labor.

Labor. The fun stuff. Yes, it's true, I'm a crazy and had this little girl with no medication. Of any sort. I'd like to say that it was great. I'd be lying. It would have been better(easier?) if I hadn't already been SO tired. I could deal with the contractions and back labor, but I knew it was going to get a lot worse, and I was already giving it all I had. Yeah, back labor. Sarah was posterior until delivery, but counter-pressure helped a lot. So anyhow I was feeling pretty chicken, but the nurse was very encouraging. Walked around, labored in the bath for a bit. Started feeling some increasing pressure and decided it was time to get out. That would be when we hit transition, when the contractions gave me 10 second breaks in between and I thought I was going to die. I remember begging, just begging for a break. (They did eventually let up a bit.) It didn't help that they checked me and I was not quite a 5. Being checked and hearing you've progressed further than you thought is great. Unless you haven't, then it's depressing. This was just after the shift change so 6:20-ish. So they put me on my side in bed, because I was too worn out to be up any more, the plan was to have me turn over every half hour. But I decided that it wasn't working and got on my hands and knees to turn the baby over. Oh, the relief when she flipped. I was pretty sure I must be ready to push so I collapsed on my side and had the nurse check. SEVEN centimeters. (7:05 am) I suggested she call the doctor anyways, because I was pretty sure the baby would be here very soon. She had to be, because I was officially DONE. One (maybe 2) more contraction and I could feel her descending. The nurse is on the phone with Dr. Gray. The poor man has already delivered 3 babies the day before, and is not quite coherent. He heard '7' and thought he could go back to sleep for a minute, she said no he couldn't- come now. So he got up and went to go pee. Meanwhile I am in bed, the baby is on her way out, and my coping strategy at the moment is born of the need to yell, and wondering where the heck my doctor is- I'm yelling " Doctor GRAAAAAY' at the top of my lungs. (Yes I'm totally embarrassed and laughing at myself right now) The nurses are yelling at him to hurry up too. They thought it was all great- they knew I was a VBAC, I was going natural, they could hear the end, they were super excited about the success, and had a great time teasing the Dr about how they don't pee for a full 12 hours, what was he thinking?? He barely had time to wash his hands and catch her because she just came flying out. 5 minutes. I went from 7cm to baby in 5 minutes. And for those of you wondering- that was my favorite part. Pushing is WAY better than passively letting contractions take over your body.

Sarah Phyllis was here. The very pink little bundle with the pretty dark hair on her head from my dreams was officially here. (She looks remarkably like the grandmother I named her for.) And we are all in love.

What September 11th means to me.

I didn't watch the news that day. We didn't have TV at home, and when I got to my Children's Lit class on the campus of DSC it was probably about 10 am, MDT. So some people knew what was going on and it was mentioned. I was feeling a bit clueless. As the day went on I heard more about it. I spent most of my day in the small building that housed the college preschool. My classes were there, and I worked there that afternoon. I could barely visualize the towers, they held no connection for me, and there was no video feed replaying around me. But my cousin, he was in Washington, and that was being locked down. When my mother came to pick me up (I had no car) I was definitely concerned about what was going on. Mostly, as I learned more about it, I grieved. There were tales of people standing up and taking down their OWN airplanes before they could cause further damage, heroes who had sacrificed their lives knowingly. Neighbors waited anxiously to contact loved ones so far away- the phone lines were completely jammed. People had died. Without warning, the world had changed.

Time has gone by. I live in Southern UT, and now that is specifically Cedar City. I grew up hearing tales of the infamous Mountain Meadows Massacre. From the performance of UTAH! at Tuacahn, to camping at a friends ranch next to the site, to a seminary teacher who was part of creating a monument. I knew it was part of MY history. It isn't discussed much here, in Cedar City. The truth is that the mob came from Cedar City. Out of fear and anger and misunderstanding a mob committed a horrible crime against humanity on September 11, 1857. When I read that date, it stuck out to me. Although it was on a much smaller scale, September 11th is not just a day that we were attacked. Al-Qaeda is not the only group of people that has lashed out against those of different belief in a misguided search for religious peace. It has happened in my own backyard. It has happened in my own religion.

September 11th will always stand as a reminder in my own mind to tolerate, to love, to forgive. It does not matter what our race, religion, creed, or nationality may be. We are ALL children of God. And he loves each of us. How we treat our fellow kind is the only way we can show what lessons we have learned from our history. We must never, never forget what hate and fear has done to us. For it will certainly happen again, time and time again, if we let it. Remember. Never Forget.

Oh me, oh my I haven't blogged in a while...

It's been two and a half months since I blogged! I realized this when I went to upload a picture from the camera to show you- of Abby's new gappy grin. And saw that I took a bunch of pictures at the end of May/beginning of June, and hadn't done a thing with them.

First- our trip to Taylor, AZ. We went to attend a cousins wedding. Which was doubly good as an excuse to show the kids where Daddy grew up, since it was in the same area. We took a few scenic pictures on the way down, then left the camera in the car. If any of my beloved extended family has pictures of my kids, will you email them to me? Thanks. It was a delightful trip, because spending time with my extended family, and meeting a cousin IRL that I'd become friends with online is one definition of Heaven.

Then came the end of school, and with it the Dance Festival. I give you- The Tooty Ta-Ta.

Tonsillectomies. For both Abby and Harvey. That was quite a week, and I was really glad to see it end, thank you very much. At least now it's done. Neither child was sick but they both had HUGE tonsils. It's much harder to see the back of their throats now.

Once the kids had recovered from surgery we were busy with PTA movies, swimming lessons, picnics, library and book mobile visits, and other stuff. So busy we decided to do nothing for the 4th of July- we stayed home and did stuff we needed to do. I did my best not to get discouraged about missing a family reunion that weekend. I succeeded reasonably well. We were going to go camping but were just too behind on everything. Being busy was a good thing- we were tired, but the summer was flying by. Once swimming lessons were done we started in on the boredom, and I slipped into a funk. So I'd been too busy to blog the fun stuff then it got dull, oh well.

On July 1st (I think) Abby lost her first tooth while eating a bread stick at the park. I only know the date by looking at the menu for the lunches they were serving. A week or so later out came the other bottom tooth. Then yesterday, July 31st, a top tooth dropped out. Since then she has been walking around with this grin frozen on her face so she can show EVERYBODY. It is pretty cute. Cute enough that we finally got out the camera to take a picture- I missed the first lost tooth picture, shame on me. She's 3 dollars richer but spent one at the dollar store on a chalkboard. I think the tooth value goes down after number 4.

So I leave you with the Gappy Grin

Facing the Daily Grind

I know my blog is supposed to be about finding simple pleasures. But, lest someone deludes themselves into thinking that anyone can have an ideal life, I'm going to go ahead and vent. I am so sick of the daily routine. Just the morning routine has me ready to pull out my hair. Every morning I make my bed, read my scriptures, get dressed, say my prayers, go downstairs to feed the kids, have them help me clan up breakfast, go back upstairs and help the kids with beds, clothes, hair, shoes, teeth. If I'm lucky, we'll finish by 9:30. 2 hours, this routine usually takes 2 whole flippin' hours. And yesterday, it was a quarter til 10 before we were done with breakfast. After the wind kept me up all night I slept in, then showered, so wow were we late.

It's made all the worst because it wasn't all that long ago that the routine felt like it was going so well, and I was getting on top of things. When I found out I was pregnant, I rejoiced. I am so happy to have another baby. And while I know four kids is going to be challenging, I looked at the 9 months in front of me as an opportunity to improve in my role as wife and mother so that I would be better prepared for having another little one around. And I was doing it too. I had developed a routine that got most of the daily tasks done, I was vacuuming at least once a week, working up to twice for downstairs, I was even planing on stripping the sheets in one bedroom every week and keeping up on clean beds that way! For some people, this may seem laughable, but I have always been the first one to say that I am a BAD housekeeper. It doesn't come naturally to me, some people rejoice in cleaning their houses, and I am not one of them. But I was trying to be. Then I stumbled.

I don't know if I got sick, stressed, tired, busy, or just in a funk. Probably a nice little combination of all of them, but I dropped the ball on my newly forming habits, and now I am having a hard time picking up the pieces. I'm sick of the mess, but catching up is intimidating. Especially when I'm just sick of trying to keep up with stuff like getting ready in the morning. School is out for summer vacation in less than 3 weeks. It would be nice if not having to worry about school would let me set my own schedule. But not having school looming over us is likely to have the opposite effect. I could do much if I would just get up a little earlier, and that was looking easy until Jeff stopped turning on an alarm clock. Yeah, we just have the one, I'll be moving it back to my side of the bed soon. Argh, we, ok I, do better when a routine is in place and getting stuff done just happens. I need to get back to that place. Where's my motivation? What helps motivate you? Really, I'd appreciate it.

Beautiful Girl II

So the Mommy Models I posted about? Another blog is doing a give-away, this time for a gift certificate good for the whole cost of the session! I really want to win this one, sohttp://tatertotsandjello.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day-extravaganza-photography.html is the website, and if you win I'll be cheering for you too.

Beautiful Girl

So we all want to be beautiful right? Of course! Reality is that physical beauty is not very top priority with little kids in the house. But there is a fun chance to get your beauty on, and have a wonderful photographer take pictures of you- model style! It's called Mommy Models, and it's a fun contest that runs this summer. For 65$ you get a one-hour shoot and a CD with 10 of the best images on it. Then you are entered into the contest, and get everyone to vote for your shoes, and can win a free family shoot!! Not bad, not bad at all. Except, I don't have 65 extra dollars laying around, bummer. Never fear! A giveaway is here. Sassyscoops is giving away a 25 dollar gift certificate good to that Mommy Models shoot. If I win that certificate, I'll scrape up the remaining 40. Because this looks great. So go ahead, go enter and/or sign up for your shoot!

Community Theater

Last night we got to take the kids to a small-town community theater production of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. It was my first experience with community theater. I've been to high school productions, plenty at Tuacahn, and a production of Princess and the Pea done by kids. I've enjoyed all of them. And I now have a new love for community theater. The acting was alright, the stars of the show did a good job, but some of the ensemble didn't look to comfortable on stage. The stage was small. Very small. The sets had to be simple. There were very few special effects, certainly none that were dazzling. By no means was it a Broadway production, and it even ran much simpler than the high school plays I've been to.

But that didn't make it a less enjoyable experience. First off, it was affordable. For less than the price of ONE normal ticket to a Shakespearean Festival or Tuacahn production, the whole family got to go. Goodness, it was cheaper than a movie! But more importantly it showed off what people with a desire can do when they put their minds to it. The set was fairly simple yes, a few trees moved on and off stage, one 2-sided building, and a couple different pieces of furniture made up most of it. But the costumes were so fun! Using simple things that are readily available- fabric, plywood, some craft supplies, they created the medley of living objects at the palace. And the character of the humans was magnified by their costumes too, I think Le Fou's was my favorite. The show has been shown to a full house every night, and only ran for a week. Obviously, it was popular. But what I really found impressive, is that the people doing this aren't paid. They do it for the fun of it, the passion. It gives anyone in the community who might be interested a chance to be part of a play. If you aren't super talented yet, no big deal, come participate in this, become more experienced, gain confidence, have fun, improve!

It's a little bit of a drive for us, but this experience was such fun that I'm sure we'll be back. I don't think the larger town I'm living in has a community theater, as they have many theater options on the higher end, and I don't know if we could rouse the volunteers to do it time after time. Such a shame, I could be mistaken of course. We do have a place that it could be done, and if I ever hear of an honest-to-goodness community theater around here, I'll see what I can do to participate. Do you have one near you? Have you ever been directly involved in the production of a play, musical or otherwise? I haven't, but someday I think I will...